


Vice

by CesiumV



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: F/M, Fingerfucking, Gen, Infidelity, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 09:45:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14186205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CesiumV/pseuds/CesiumV
Summary: You're only a call away.





	Vice

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic on ao3 and my first x reader fic. takes place pre mike and mand makeup. constructive crit is welcome but pls be gentle. hope you enjoy!

Of course he was alone. Of course his wife went off for a few days to obviously cheat. Of course he was going to do the same thing. That’s the way it had been for years.

 

The decision for whom he would spend the nights with wasn’t hard- he had his favorites, after all. Michael De Santa was a man of many vices and sex was one of them— and there was no shortage of indulgence in the city of Los Santos, especially with  _ them  _ being nothing more than a phone call away. 

And so it went. 

 

As soon as [Y/N] stepped through the door he was on them, hands grabbing at their hips to pull them taut against him. It wasn’t too heated, not at first. Actually, it started off more of a hug. Not something he usually did but there was more than one ache inside him right now— one of which he didn’t talk about to anyone besides Friedlander. 

 

And then their lips were on his. 

 

They were… they were real, not like the cut out photoshopped copies one would see on billboards, commercials, and magazines. The words ‘when the hell did things get this bad’ cross Michael’s mind but they already have their arms around his shoulders and lips on his neck to tear him away from all of that, to tear him away of anything  _ but _ them. How could he think of anything else, after all? They… wanted him. For free. Nothing was fake, not the want, not the friendship, and definitely not the appreciation in their eyes whenever he returned their affections (whatever they may be) or the sounds they made when he bent them over. 

 

Most importantly, there was no pushing him away when he got close, and no…. expectations of anything more than this. 

 

He breaks away to take them by the hands and to the kitchen. No words were spoken, not yet. They didn’t need them. Both of them knew what the other wanted. This process had happened a few times before, it was almost routine. But every time still felt… new. It didn’t feel empty like it did with a hooker or a booty call. [Y/N] stuck around, talked to him, watched a movie and put up with him going on and on and fucking on about how great things  _ used _ to be.

 

They  _ listened.  _ Listened unconditionally. 

 

Michael lifts his partner up and sets them on the island, hand sliding down their lower back and lips pressing feverishly together again. He’s already half hard in his suit pants. Their hands are all over him, sliding his jacket off and tugging at his belt, so how could he not be? 

 

[Y/N] breathes out against his mouth before leaning in again. These things are sort of hard to do when you refuse to stop kissing, but somehow both of them manage to get their tops off in the mix. The shirts are thrown to the side onto a stool as Mike presses them down onto the cool countertop, mouth pressing to their chest in methodically. He knows what he’s doing, knows what makes the person beneath him tick. 

 

Blue eyes wander up to the face twisted in pleasure below and he can’t help but stare for a good few seconds.

 

Beautiful. They were beautiful. 

 

He notices they’re shivering, though, just a little. At first he thinks something's going wrong but then it hits him— The poor fuck has their bare back against chilly granite. No shit they’re cold. 

 

He makes a soft noise at his own idiocy and shifts to strip them and himself. Once that’s over with (again, easier said than done. there’s no keeping their hands off of one another now.) he lifts them up and carries them off to the couch, laying his lover down once more.

 

“Counters kinda cold to be fuckin’ on, huh beautiful?” He says, hand sliding down their chilled back once it’s against the plush white fabric beneath. 

 

It earns him a smile and a kiss from them. 

 

Michael, internally, is giddy as all fuck. Amanda hadn’t shown him something like that in god knows how long and now this person he had met in a bar did? What did he do to be so lucky? 

 

Two strong, thick fingers slide down their stomach and against their heat. Ready so soon, as expected. It didn’t take much to get them going and it made him feel like a damn king. 

The digits slip inside their hole, arching upwards a few times to hit that sweet spot while his thumb lazily rolls across the sensitive skin outside. Their hips arch upwards and into his touch while soft moans leave [Y/N]’s lips. They’re  _ literally _ in the palm of his hand right now and be couldn’t be happier about it.

 

Michael’s free arm extends to the coffee table and he opens the drawer, pulling out a pre-lubed condom. With one end to his mouth and the other between his thumb and forefinger, the package is ripped open and he rolls the latex onto his member. It’s all done in one fast and easy motion. Putting a rubber on one handed is a skill he had retained from his youth. 

 

Mike isn’t porn star big- but he is damn nice, though. Just a bit above average in length, but plenty thick, and he’s cut. It’s enough to stretch them more than those two fingers when he removes them and slides inside of them. 

 

Instead of thrusting right away, he just lays there and listens to their frenzied breathing. They hold onto his shoulders and look up toward with half lidded eyes and rosy cheeks- and god if it’s not one of the best looks he’s seen on someone elses face. 

 

“Mike…”

The first word [Y/N] says that night is his name. 

 

He puts both hands on their hips and moves in close so the two of them are pressed chest to chest and mouth to mouth again. He wants to be  _ near.  _ This isn’t some distant, cold sex. The want, urge to make it mean something, whatever it may be, burns in him and goddammit  _ Michael Townley does what he fuckin’ wants and no one can tell him any different.  _

 

Animalistic urges have overtaken him, he can’t help himself, Michael shoves his face into the warm crook of their neck and tightens his grip, nails digging into the softer skin beneath. He arches back and thrusts forward with a surprising amount of strength, enough to shake the couch. Slow, but strong. 

 

Their nails are already dragging across the skin of his back, stinging and leaving red trails in their wake. Good. That just meant he was making them feel  _ great  _ and it boosted his ego to the point where he doesn’t hate his own guts. 

 

A rough hand slides across their hips and lower stomach, thumb playing with their sensitive parts again as he continued to roll his hips into the warmth around him. 

 

“You like that, huh beautiful?” Michael sighs into their ear while smiling, earning himself a soft nod and pleasured moan. 

 

[Y/N] opens their eyes and looks to him. They’re tearing up with how the pleasure is building inside of them- it’s intense, really intense. He’s rutting upwards to hit that sweet spot up against their top wall all while rubbing outside and they’re already shaking like a leaf. 

 

He’s got them where he wants them: completely at his mercy.

 

Michael is close to tipping over the point of no return and his pace picks up which doesn’t help his squirming partner beneath him. [Y/N] is straight up crying now, begging for him to let them cum, telling him they’re so so so so close and asking him not to slow down in such a sweet voice- 

 

So Michael forces himself to stop completely. It was hard on him, too, but this was gonna be worth it. He liked to make his lover work for things, liked being in control. He  _ had  _ to savor this.

 

A noise of disdain leaves his partner but all he can do is smile and take their chin in his free hand, lifting their head to look his way. He scoots himself in closer, letting both their knees rest on either side of his thighs. 

 

“You wanna cum that bad?” 

 

[Y/N] nods, bites their lip, and whimpers all while trying to move their hips, but Mike has his hand down flat on their stomach to hold them in place. 

 

“Tell me how bad. Tell me how much you want me to make you lose it.” 

He leans in close and tugs their chin upwards, locking his eyes with theirs. 

All they can do is make a pitiful noise. 

 

“P-Please, Michael… please. I’m begging you, please. Please please let me cum.” 

 

He takes a moment of consideration to their plea before shaking his head. 

“Not good enough. Tell me why.” 

 

They complain with another whimper, yet still follow his command diligently. 

 

“I need it. I need you, Michael. I wanna cum so bad, I need it. I need you to make me cum.  _ Please.  _ “ 

 

The last part… the sheer desperation. It’s obvious from the glint in his eye that he quite likes that. He likes it a whole hell of a lot. It makes him feel great inside. Having someone so needy because of what he’s up to. Hell, just being needed in the first place, it all sets him off like a lighter to a stick of dynamite. 

 

“Fuckin-A.” Michael says with a smug smile, kissing at their jawline before picking up where he left off. 

 

He’s right where they need him, cock head hitting that spot over and over and thumb pressing into that sensitive bundle of nerves all the while. It doesn’t take much more for the blissful, aching knot in the bottoms stomach to come undone with a spark. They’re a crying, whimpering mess around him and it’s far from fake, it’s the realest goddamn thing he’s ever seen  _ and  _ felt. Their entire hole is tightening around him with the beat of their heart as they moves themselves down onto him of their own volition, taking him completely inside. 

 

That’s what sets him over the edge. 

M’s stomach tightens and he feels the tell tale warmth flood his groin. His thrusts grow sloppy and before he knows it he’s pressed right against them again, biting and licking and sucking whatever skin is closest without any restraint. The need to mark what feels like  _ his _ is irresistable.

 

He doesn’t even remember the words that come out of his mouth as he fills them, cock twitching. All he knows is that they were  _ loud  _ and echoed through the room, overtaking [Y/N’s] sweet sounds easily. 

 

And then it’s all over much too soon.

 

They lay against one another, sweaty, shaking, limbs-tangled-with-limbs, panting messes. It’s a few minutes before either of them get their bearings and when they do all they can manage is tired kissing and squeezing. 

 

Another few moments pass before he pulls out, pulling the piece of latex away and disposing of it before pulling them back against him. 

 

[Y/N] doesn’t move away. They don’t even look like they want to leave. 

 

Instead, they curl against his chest. He wraps his arm around their shoulders and throws a blanket over his own naked body and theirs. A classic movie is flicked on and he looks over to his partner who’s already comfortable against him and half asleep, genuinely happy to be in his presence. 

 

And that’s the most he could’ve ever asked for. 

  
  



End file.
